


Inanition

by sugarboms898



Series: Never to Come Out [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Junkers - Freeform, Junkertown (Overwatch), Light Angst, References to Canon, Young Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, opportunistic deals to stay alive, potential childhood starvation, taking advantage of someone's desperation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 21:12:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14962250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarboms898/pseuds/sugarboms898
Summary: Jagged and dangerous, Junkertown is like a beacon of safety in the Outback.Whimpering, Jamie clutches his stomach tightly, walking a little faster. He needs to find something–anything–to eat.





	Inanition

Imposing buildings, imposing people.

Jamie watches closely as the crowd disperses, scowls and smirks on their faces as the short man in a radiation suit wipes away the splatter of blood. When the man is distracted enough, Jamie slips past him, scurrying through the entrance into the looming city. Jagged and dangerous, Junkertown is like a beacon of safety in the Outback; people of all shapes and sizes enter the town, milling about, eating. Jamie’s stomach clenches painfully, gnawing at itself in desperation–he needs food, now.

The problem is, though, that you need money to enter. Jamie doesn’t have money. He doesn’t know what money even looks like. He thinks he had some one time, but he’d used it to start a fire in the freezing Australian night. It hadn’t helped. Looking around desperately, Jamie hurries towards one of the many food stalls, the flashing neon sign like a siren’s call. The woman behind the counter glares down at him, the lower half of her face covered in a stained surgeon’s mask.

“Get the fuck outta here,” she says, voice hoarse and un-good.

Jamie shudders, looking up at her hopefully. Glare intensifying, she picks up a meat cleaver, pointing it inches from his face.

“I dun care if you’re just a boy, I’ll skin ya and jerk your flesh if you even _think_ of stealing from me.”

Yelping, Jamie scurries back from the woman, hurrying down the sidewalk. The woman watches him go, cackling as he rounds a corner. Jamie glances at her from over his shoulder, shuddering again as she gives him a slow wave. Irradiated witch. Weaving between the throngs of people, Jamie slows as he smells something delicious in the air. Stomach rumbling, Jamie slows in front of a busy food stall, the counter completely surrounded by people.

“–two more o’ye b’fore I close up!”

Jamie tries to push his way towards the front, grunting in pain as the other children and adults elbow and smack him. They push him out, the young boy falling flat on his butt; glaring up at the sneering faces, he reluctantly leaves the crowd, mouth salivating as he spots the pork buns the vendor is handing out. Whimpering, Jamie clutches his stomach tightly, walking a little faster. He needs to find something–anything–to eat.

The next three stalls prove unlucky as well, threats and bodily harm the only handouts. Whining in the back of his throat, Jamie all but throws himself into a pile of garbage. When you’re starving, you’ll do anything to survive. He paws through the pile, wrinkling his nose at the rancid smell of urine and blood. He nearly gags at a rotting toe he finds, tossing it over his shoulder as quickly as he can. He scours the pile a little while longer before deeming it empty of consumables, throwing himself onto a soggy old mattress.

“Oi, you! Get out of my spot!”

Jamie blinks, watching an older man hobble over; his left leg is robotic, rusting and ill fitting. He has a webbed scar across the left of his face, the eye milky white. Jamie grits his teeth, shrinking in on himself as the man draws nearer. The man snarls, blackened teeth peeking from behind thin lips.

“You rat, you filthy junk rat! Get out of me stuff!”

Jamie scampers away just as the man swipes at him, jagged nails breezing past his face. The boy glares at the man, holding up his middle finger as the old man collapses. The man pays him no mind, pawing through the garbage before looking up at the boy accusingly.

“Little cunt! What the fuck d’you do with my toe?”

Gagging, Jamie scampers away, running down another alleyway before the man can grab at him again. He wipes his hands off on his shirt, sticking his tongue out in disgust. After a moment he continues wandering down the alleyway, pausing when a woman steps out of a building. She has blue hair shorn at the sides, the top a Mohawk that extends into a braid that’s draped over her shoulder; a mace hangs from her hip, brushing against her armored legs.

The woman is waiting outside for someone, her foot tapping quickly on the pavement; after a moment, a mountain of a man steps into the alley. His face is obscured by a terrifying gas mask, large reflective circles covering his eyes. Jamie bites his lip, backing into a shadow as the woman starts talking to the man. He can tell immediately that _he_ _should not be here_ , but his feet are rooted to the ground.

“–in the Scrapyard, yeah? Could always use someone of your expertise.”

The man lets out a low grunt, pulling his graying hair into a ponytail. The woman watches him for a moment before shrugging, a predatory smile on her face.

“Alright then, mate. Suit yourself. Guess I’ll have to do it all by m’self.”

The man gives a small sound of agreement, readjusting a large hook hanging over his shoulder. The pair start to walk towards Jamie’s hiding spot, the boy pressing his back against the rough metal wall. In his haste to disappear, his foot knocks against an empty can. His eyes widen in fear as the pair stop, the man the first to spot him. He nudges his companion, jerking his head towards the boy.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” the woman croons, crouching down in front of Jamie.

The boy swallows nervously, hands shaking slightly. Noticing his fear, the woman’s grin widens.

“Come now, ankle biter, we won’t hurt you.”

The man huffs out a laugh, large hands flexing. The woman cackles, eyes glinting manically.

“Right: he won’t, I might.”

Jamie whimpers, eyes welling with water. He wraps an arm around his stomach, face burning red with humiliation as it lets out a loud growl. The woman blinks at him in surprise, her grin faltering slightly. She looks at him a bit more closely, inspecting him. He hunches in on himself, jaw working as he clenches his teeth.

“What, didn’t have brekkie today, ankle biter?”

Jamie grits his teeth before shaking his head, cheeks turning redder. The woman glances at her companion, raising an eyebrow.

“No? Don’t suppose you ran off from mummy and daddy, either?”

Jamie shakes his head again, voice a whisper, “Don’t have ‘em.”

The woman squints at him.

“What was that? Speak up, kid.”

Jamie gulps before saying repeating himself louder. The man and woman share a glance, the woman’s expression growing frustrated.

“All right, which home’re you from, then?”

Jamie glances away a moment, nostrils flaring.

“…’M not from Junkertown, ma’am.”

The woman gets closer, her face only inches from his. She scans his face, lingering on his gaunt features. After a moment she leans away, expression growing darker.

“You snuck in from the outer villages,” she murmurs quietly, “and would this be the first time, or the latest?”

Jamie freezes, feeling a dangerous shift in the air. The man looming behind the woman grips his hook, slowly pulling it from his shoulder. The woman holds a hand up, stopping the man.

“No, no. Put it away, mate. We should see what the little wretch has to offer.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the man rumbles out, though his hook returns to his shoulder.

“Tell me, Dunny rat,” the woman grips Jamie’s face gently, “how much would you give to live in Junkertown? Free to live and do as you please, take what you want from whoever you want.”

Jamie searches her face this time, trying to see how truthful she is. After a moment, he bites his lip, a hopeful look on his face.

“…I can eat here?”

The woman’s face breaks into a slow, menacing grin.

“Oh little kiddiwink, you work for me and I’ll _personally_ make sure you’ve got grub in your tum.”

Jamie glances from the woman to the man for a moment before nodding slightly, his stomach clenching painfully. When you’re starving, you’ll do anything to survive.

“What d’you want me to do, boss?”

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 07-13-18: minor edit to correct Junker Queen's hair color from red to blue.
> 
> Title is the name for the process of starvation: the lack of mental and physical energy due to malnourishment/extreme hunger.
> 
> I really like Junktertown as an escort map, and think the story behind it is really interesting! Junkrat is my second most-played hero, so he has a special place in my heart ❤️  
> I thought it would be interesting to explore what Junkrat was like before he became a pyromaniac, and the potential beginnings for the Queen's personal dislike for him and Roadhog.
> 
>  
> 
> I used [this site](http://www.koalanet.com.au/australian-slang.html) and [this one](http://alldownunder.com/australian-slang/dictionary-kids.htm) for all the terms/phrases; below is a general definition/description for each of them:
> 
> Ankle biter – young child/kid  
> Brekkie – breakfast  
> Dunny rat – cunning/smart  
> Kiddiwink – young kid/child
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked this piece!


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